Playing Patience

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yep.”

Chet had told me about the sexy schoolgirl uniforms they wore there, and I pictured her in it. Damn.

“I’d like to see you in your sexy schoolgirl uniform,” I said.

Her cheeks turned bright pink and she shook her head. “Are you always so blunt?”

“Always,” I said as I leaned back in the swing.

“I suppose I like that about you,” she said softly, like she was confessing something huge. “It’s refreshing. Even if you do say some pretty vile things.” She reached out and playfully pushed my arm. “What about you? What’s your deal?”

“I don’t really have a deal. My dad’s no governor, I’ve never played any sports, but I’ve played the guitar since I was seven, I don’t help people, and I could never pull off the rocker chick look.” I swiped at my bangs like a girl would.

She laughed at the last part and it made me smile. She had an amazing laugh.

“Well, that’s pretty cut and dry, except you’re wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

She looked over at me and her ponytail rested against the side of her face. “You helped me.”

She had me there. I still didn’t know what made me help her in the bathroom that night at The Pit. It was a question I’d asked myself a few times. I was changing some and I wasn’t sure I was okay with going soft since I needed my hard shell to keep myself alive.

“Only because I was hoping to get laid.” I lied.

“If you say so,” she said as she pushed off on the swing once more. “So you live with your dad?” she asked.

I didn’t want to answer, but since I’d initiated the questions, I felt like I had to.

“Yes.”

“Do you ever see your mom?” She stopped swinging and pulled her hair out of her ponytail. I got caught up in her movements as she ran her fingers through it.

“No, I don’t see my mom. And unless I straighten my ass up so I can go to heaven when I die, I probably never will. She died a few years back.” The words burned my throat as I said them.

I rarely talked about my mom. Mostly because it caused this strange pressure in my chest that I didn’t like, but also because I didn’t think it was anyone’s damn business. It was different with Patience. She wasn’t being a nosey bitch. She was just making conversation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She looked over at me with a wounded look in her eyes. “My mom’s dying.”

I didn’t say anything. There’s not really much you can say to something like that and even if there was, I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d say it. Instead, I looked away.

“I don’t know why I said that,” she mumbled. “It’s actually the first time I’ve said it out loud. I’m sorry.”

When I looked back up at her, her bottom lip trembled and the strange pressure that I hated so much when I talked about my mom seeped into my chest.

“Don’t apologize,” I said as I stood up. I needed to move. I needed to do anything that would make the pressure in my chest go away. She stood up next to me and looked back at me with those big blue eyes. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

I reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She jerked at the contact and then her body relaxed.

“Thanks,” she said as she started to walk next to me to my car.

“No worries, you’ll owe me one,” I grinned over at her.

Ten

Patience

I’m not sure what made me tell Zeke my mom was dying. Even saying the words made me feel sick, but we were having an honest moment and I wanted him to know I sort of understood his pain. I’d seen the look in his eyes when he said his mom was dead and it had been like a punch to the ribs to see such a hard, carefree guy show so much pain in that brief moment.

Being around Zeke was like watching a movie on a broken TV and having the screen blink on and off. Every now and again, I got to see brief flickers of the real him and I had to admit, I really liked those brief moments. More than I should.

We didn’t say much on the drive to my house and he even stopped and pulled over before getting to my house without me saying so. I appreciated him doing that.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon?” I said, before I got out of the car.

“It’s a date.” He grinned over at me.

I popped open the car door and got out. I shut the heavy door and turned to walk away.